Facades
by Mango Schmango
Summary: Hades/Persephone. Everyone thought that their union was a passionless one of detachment and barely concealed resentment, especially on Persephone's side. But an individual must never be deceived by appearances.


**_Facades_**

**Disclaimer: I'm just showing my appreciation for Greek Mythology in a non-profit way. No infringement intended. **

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Demeter's brow creased in concern at the pale and withdrawn figure of her precious Persephone, who had recently returned from her third six-month sojourn as the King of Underworld's Queen. Persephone's features were expressionless as she trailed her fingers listlessly through the rich sunflowers. Demeter felt rage curl up in her being at what that damned Hades had done to her glorious daughter who had once laughed, skipped and twirled with joyful abandon. Indeed, Persephone had been the pulsing life force that all had gathered around as if her very presence was succor to their soul.

That was until that cursed King of the Dead had risen from the dark bowels of the earth and snatched her virginal daughter and done…Demeter shook her thoughts away from such distasteful imagery. Persephone never spoke of what happened when she spent those six long months with Hades. Whenever Demeter attempted to broach the subject, Persephone gave vague responses or clammed up completely, retreating into an impenetrable shell that Demeter could not breach.

Often, Demeter caught Persephone staring off into some unknown place, caught up memories that Demeter could not decipher. Persephone had taken to completing long walks through the lush fields, the misty moors and the thick forests, forsaking any companions and sometimes not coming back until after dark.

Persephone still danced with the nymphs to the virginals and lutes but there was something forced, almost mechanical about her dancing movements. Sometimes Demeter perceived something darker surface in the silent blue waters of her daughter's eyes. The way Persephone's hips would sashay in time with the music, her elegant arms posing invitingly above her head, and the shape of her breasts pressing through her maidenly white dress, Demeter wondered just how much of her innocence Hades had sullied.

Her daughter had changed. Had become a woman. There was no doubt about that no matter how often Demeter tried to ignore the fact. Persephone's walk even changed. Her movements were now fluid and graceful, her feet never making a sound as her long gown kissed the ground.

Demeter had once, after a particularly exotic dance by Persephone, clapped Ares across the head and threatened bloody retribution after catching him making lecherous eyes at Persephone. She had had already one of her brothers claiming her daughter. She certainly did not need another relation to make his mark.

Also, there was now a quiet power about Persephone that even unnerved Demeter at times. A drunken satyr once pestered Persephone; shouting out lewd comments even though she had politely asked him to cease with such vulgar behaviour. When he refused, Persephone then turned to him, raised her graceful hand and lightly murmured an enchantment that turned the satyr into stone. Demeter had pled with her daughter to undo the sorcery, but Persephone adamantly refused, saying that her virtue was to be impeached by no foul creature and the full force of her wrath would be felt. Demeter took this act as another sign of Hades' perversion of her daughter.

Tonight Persephone did not dance. She merely sat demurely by her father, Zeus, and drinking from a golden goblet. Her golden hair shone in the torchlight and a crown of purple wildflowers lay atop her brow. Her face was as usual, inscrutable, and Demeter longed for her to shake off her melancholy and embrace what life she could.

Six months later, Persephone sat on the rocking boat that glided down the silent River Styx. Every noise echoed around the cavernous underground and Charon for once, did not pester Persephone with idle small talk. She was draped in white and every spare inch of her skin was adorned with flowers, while her hair was encrusted in glittering jewels.

Charon himself was unnerved by Persephone's stillness and blank expression. A rare feeling of pity filled him at the sight of such a beautiful woman forced to spend half a year in a sunless, cold underworld. Her posture was regal and she did not tremble at all.

She politely rejected his offer to help her off the boat and gave him three gold coins as payment, which left Charon speechless because he had never been paid that much before.

Finally alone, Persephone lightly trod over the rocky surface, the dim mist encircling her slim form like the embrace of a lover. She closed her eyes for a moment and held her arms out like she was on a cross, reveling in the silence. She felt no fear.

Only an odd sense of security and familiarity that both unnerved and excited her.

Her senses prickled, realizing that she was no longer alone. Her eyes fluttered open, rapidly adjusting to the poorly lit cave. She saw a dark figure, shrouded by shadows and mist. Her heart leapt in her chest, the aching loss that had plagued her for six long months on Olympus subsiding immediately.

"My lord husband, why do you silently lurk in the shadows?" she breathed, holding her slender arm out to him in a silent invitation.

Like a wraith emerging from the night and into the light, so Hades did materialise in front of her. He encased her outstretched arm in his cool, smooth hands and rose it to his lips for a chaste kiss.

Persephone's free hand gently ran over the sharp contours of his face as if she needed to re-familiarise herself with his features. He had not changed at all. His noble bearing and his quiet intensity were unmarred by the six months they had spent sundered by the light and dark.

Suddenly, her heart filled with such a rush of turbulent emotions that she felt she would weep.

"It has been too long, my lord," she gasped, her fingers running through his mahogany hair as his face was still bowed.

At her tremulous voice, his head shot up and Persephone was struck by the intensity of his gaze. He crushed her to his chest.

"_My_ queen and empress of the Underworld," he whispered into her ear as if he were being strangled by the weight of emotion that was bearing down upon him.

A choked sob erupted from her throat. "My dear, dear lord…"

"This place has been barren without you," hoarsely said Hades, standing back to cup her face in his hands. His eyes were burning like black coals. Persephone could not tear her eyes away from his. The air around them hummed with energy.

"I felt like I was a shade wondering through the glades without you for those six long months on Olympus…"

Hades' lips brushed over hers. "I can assure you that the torture was acute."

Persephone unconsciously draped her body against his like flowers over a grave. "My mother and the nymphs adorned me with so many ornaments as if they perceive I am a mortal sacrifice to be lain upon your dark altar."

He rubbed his lips down the column of her throat, making her shiver in delicious anticipation. "You are far from a meek lamb, my dread empress of the Underworld. If your mother could see the power that pulses from you, she would see you are more than an ornament…"

"She thinks I am still a child," Persephone said in a low voice that was laced with bitterness, her hands running up and down his lean arms.

"You are no babe in swaddling clothes, my love," Hades murmured, dropping light kisses on her eyelids and her cheeks while his hands had dropped from her face and were now tracing languorous circles on her hips.

A soft moan escaped her lips. "Only you, my love, see me for who I really am. Only you see the great capacity I have to wield power."

"Indeed I do, for you have weaved an unholy enchantment upon me that I cannot break free from."

Persephone laughed quietly as she wound her arms around his neck and arched her body against his, far from an innocent child. Hades gave her a look of such possessiveness and desire that Persephone's breath caught in her throat. She could still not believe that this King of the Underworld could come to mean so much to her and become so wedged in her soul that being away from him from six months was almost unbearable. The thought made her heart twist painfully in her chest.

"Persephone, raise your—"

With a strangled sob, Persephone lifted her lips to his before he could even finish his sentence.

Hades' lips engulfed hers as if he was communicating the desperate and overwhelming sensation of having her back with him. Persephone completely understood, tears pricking at her eyes at the feeling of having his lips on hers again and of having his arms tightly around her. Their lips passionately dueled, Persephone feeling as if she was intoxicated on the finest wine. She clung to him like he was a bulwark that would prevent her from sliding into oblivion.

They eventually came apart, their foreheads resting against each other's, both breathing heavily. Hades' hot breath tickled her skin and sent pleasurable jolts through her body. Tangible pleasure, thick and heavy, was coursing between them.

"Welcome back, goddess divine," he breathed, tenderly brushing back a strand of hair from her face.

Persephone pressed her lips once more to his, softly and lingeringly.

She loved that she was the only one who could make that infinitely dear face of his soften into tenderness or fire up into passion. She cherished the fact that only she could fill that lonely void he had been nursing a millennia like a festering wound in the gloom of Tartarus and in the gleam of Elysium.

By all the Gods, how she did love him. She once did not. But now she never wanted to be parted from him. She longed to have the golden threads of her life forever entwined with his own strong dark ones until the world that they reigned over crumbled into dust and their glory faded into the dusty annals of myth and legend.

Hades stood back from her and regally held out his arm to her. "Are you ready to be escorted into the hall for supper?"

With equal composure, Persephone clasped his arm. All previous traces of their passionate reunion were obliterated. In their place was a cool and inscrutable couple for the eyes of the servants to gawk upon.

Before Hades lead her to the hall, he gave her a burning look and brushed her fingertips against his lips and in a low voice that only she could hear: "Later, we shall celebrate your homecoming _properly_."

Persephone smiled radiantly, left in no doubt as to what kind of 'celebration' her husband had planned for the two of them in the intimacy of their bedchamber once the obligatory public feast concluded. Glancing around to check that there were no spying onlookers, she seductively murmured: "I impatiently await it, my love."

One of their servants scuttled out, breaking their intense interlude. The King and Queen of the Underworld immediately resumed their detached bearings. To the casual observer, it would seem that the godly couple regarded each other with barely disguised indifference.

How wrong they all were.

Only one person had penetrated the emotionless façade that the King and Queen promoted and that was Charon who had spied their little passionate reunion.

He chuckled to himself as he counted up his earnings for the day.

_So the King of the Dead is not completely withered up inside like a stripling strangled by the frost_, he gleefully thought.

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**The End. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and tell me what you think! **


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